


Nothing compares to home

by Mighty_user_of_words



Category: Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Because I am still bitter over the fact that he had to go, Multi, This is an AU where Max Lightwood lives
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-19
Updated: 2016-11-27
Packaged: 2018-05-27 16:38:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6292069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mighty_user_of_words/pseuds/Mighty_user_of_words
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Years have passed since the Dark War ended, and Shadowhunters are learning to live within the terms the Cold Peace brought in its wake. The legend of the people who had a role in the Shadowhunters winning against dark forces still lives on, and Max Lightwood expresses nothing but gratitude that most of them are part of the people he calls family, the people with whom he is truly, really at home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Cinammon buns

**Author's Note:**

> A Max Lightwood centered fic… if some events are discarded. There will be spoilers for those who haven’t read the book. I changed the name of Magnus and Alec’s son, for it to be less confusing with my main character’s. It will be following somewhat the same format as the Tales from the Shadowhunter Academy, with characters added along the way.

The light from the sunrise was pouring through the window, making his sheets grow warmer. Tiredly, he pulled the blanket over his head to conceal himself from waking up. Lazing in bed was his favorite part of the summer, when he didn’t need to wake at ungodly hours to train in the Academy. It hadn’t been long since it opened again, a few years at most, but Max’s parents felt it was best for his safety to be sent away in Idris, where he couldn’t be attacked by demons and other creatures throwing themselves to the face of Shadowhunters. It was also a given that, by studying there, he would know how to defend himself properly.

To this day, the ominous night after when he’d witnessed Jonathan Morgenstern climb up the Demon Towers still occupied his dreams, nightmares piercing his nights, making him doubt he was even breathing. It didn’t matter in the end, due to how Maxwell Lightwood woke up clutching the sheets, his chest rising up in an even matter under the sharp intakes of air. Some nights, he even remembered the pain from the hammer against the back of his skull. It wasn’t a common occurrence that his nights were cut short in such a way.

That morning was free of nightmares, at least, Max didn’t remember having any fright occupying his slumbering self. A faint scent of cinnamon and sugar reached him as he threw the blanket off from above his head. It wasn’t rare that his brother’s home was filled with such aromas, his fiancé being keen on using spices and herbs that varied greatly, some being things Max had never smelled before. Though the young man would never dare say anything about the matter, he was more than glad that Alec and Magnus had chosen a house separated from the Academy, giving him a break from the place he learned how to be an efficient warrior against the evils of the world.

Slowly, Max let himself slip out of the bed, flexing his fingers repeatedly, as they had grown cold under the stiffness of sleep. He felt mildly dizzy after standing up, though nothing to be concerned about. It was more worrying how much he had to duck his head in order to pass through any doorframe. The young man still struggled to get himself used to how tall he’d become. Sure, Alec and Magnus were reasonably tall themselves, but he was even more so. Sighing, catching the upper part of the door frame as he passed, he smiled to himself as he realized how the scent of cinnamon was even more powerful now that he had left his room.

Climbing down the stairs, the first person he encountered that morning was his nephew, Michael, though he preferred using the same nickname Magnus had come up with, Blueberry. Needless to say, the little boy was as sweet as the fruit, often more. Kneeling down, Max let Michael hug him, as tightly as he was able. The younger boy was growing fast, already having celebrated his fifth birthday, an event Max had been glad to attend, last autumn, as the school had started, in the midst of the first semester. Unable to help it, the young shadowhunter brought a hand to his nephew’s hair, ruffling it up in a caring way.

“How’s it going, Blue? Do you know what’s for breakfast?”

The young boy removed his arms from around Max, an eager smile stretching his lips, as he brought his hands together in front of himself, playing with his fingers while looking at his uncle.

“Papa and dad made cinnamon buns, and Rafael is helping with the icing.”

As he finished his sentence, Michael giggled, mostly in reaction to the smile he had brought on Max’s lips. Perhaps it was the reaction he obtained but Michael kept going, displaying his prowess to his uncle.

“I helped too, I put the sugar in Rafi’s bowl, without spilling anything!”

As the younger had finished his exclamation, Max couldn’t help the laugh that spilled from his mouth, a sound filled with much delight. Before to stand back up, he feigned hugging Michael, only to lift him up, holding the young boy between his arms, a gesture he was used to do, and was sure his nephew enjoyed. The proof came in the way the boy wrapped his arms around his uncle’s neck, his face still stretched with a smile.

It wasn’t long before the two of them got company, Alec exiting the kitchen to see the source of the noises. The older brother smiled in a way that was unique to him, a small yet meaningful one. Max was fully aware that grins weren’t a common thing for his brother, making him enjoy each one of them. Responding with a smile of his own, he stepped forward, toward the person he had admired his whole life. Every time, Alec had been there, had saved the day. Jace was known for his bravado, for overlooking the consequences of his actions. At least, it was the word going around as he was in the Academy. More than enough, his teachers had drilled him with the importance of not throwing himself to every cause, and to keep fighting the Shadowhunters’. Nevertheless, Max wished to be more like his older brother than his adoptive one.

“Smells like good team work in there, Mickey spoiled me about what was going on.”

As if on cue, the little blue boy stretched his arms towards his father, wordlessly asking to be held by him. Without missing a beat, Max indulged and handed the child to his brother, before to cross his now freed arms. Alec let a sigh come past his lips before to reply, a small smirk tugging at his lips.

“Magnus insisted we made something special. It’s not always that everyone’s here. I wanted to come wake you up earlier, though you ought to get the sleep you need, especially since the Academy starts again soon.”

That last statement was met with a quick nod from Max as the two brothers entered the kitchen, only to be met with flying flour, doused on them from the ever so mischievous Magnus Bane. In Alec’s arms, Michael was half coughing, half giggling. White powder clung to his clothes and hair, though his father had gotten the brunt of it. Max glanced over to his older brother, taking in the way he looked. In every memory he had of his brother, he could recall how Alec barely ever smiled, taking over the weight of everyone’s actions instead of letting himself live, allowing his heart to follow its own path. The change that Magnus had brought in him was astonishing. Alec had worry painted all over his face for Michael’s well-being, at the same time than an endearing small smile tugging at his lips. As the warlock joined the brother and stopped by Alec’s side to brush some flour off his son’s nose, Max diverted his gaze from the couple.

It wouldn’t be hard to find an excuse for his attention not being on them. Rafael, still holding a bowl in one hand, a whisk in the other, came to join the family. His shirt was stained with white patches, but it was hard to know if they originated from the flour explosion or if they were remnants of powdered sugar that had landed on the fabric. Max was grateful for the distraction, something he downplayed by simply greeting his other nephew. Sure, they met every morning, but he still enjoyed every moment he had with his family.

“You did this?” He inquired, pointing at the bowl, a glimpse of pride seeping in his tone. The glaze appeared to be the right texture, though Max knew as much about cooking as his sister did. Max recalled a lot of times where he dared to eat Isabelle’s concoctions, despite the warnings of his brothers, him trying his best not to show how infect it was, because it was the least he could do. Nonetheless, with the years, Izzy had gotten better and sharing a meal with her had become less of a risky business. Simon had helped in the process, it seemed. A smile crept on his lips, stretching more as his nephew answered his question.

“Yep, but papa put a bit of magic in it. He can’t really help it.”

It was a bit of an understatement, considering that everywhere Magnus went, magic followed him in a trail. The warlock did fit in the picture of the family, as there were nowhere else Max could imagine him. The harmony between him and his brother was odd though balanced all the while. Max nodded of his head in agreement, and tilted his head to the side as he walked over to the oven, peering through the door to look at the joined effort of everyone, the result of teamwork that slowly was rising and filling the room of an aroma that was way better than anything the Academy provided in terms of food.

“If team work always smelled like that, I would be there more often, and less at the Academy.”

Max’s tone was filled with amusement, and as he looked up, he noticed everyone was looking at him, though in a very different way. Magnus’ gaze was made of a quirked eyebrow, and a smirk toying on his lips. It was a typical look, especially towards anyone who wasn’t his brother. It seemed like something was gleaming in the warlock’s eyes, recognition maybe. Alec, who had moved to wrap an arm around his boyfriend had pride written all over his face. A while ago, he had been the one making sure no one got hurt, and while he still took the role, Max had replaced him in the protection of everyone, letting his siblings have a little more freedom while he was learning. True, they were all older than him, and living their lives, but paying them back for every time he’d been protected was the least he could do. Alec was the first to speak, overcoming his boyfriend, who hadn’t come up with a retort, strangely.

“The Academy is more important than cinnamon buns, but I think they would let us bring you some every once in a while. The food they serve is part of the training, I heard, so you need to endure.”

Max scowled in a ridiculous way, half-heartedly disgusted by his brother’s comment, but it made sense. It would be over in a little bit more than a year, so there was nothing to worry about. The only thing he needed to care now was his nephews and that he didn’t disrupt the happiness of the family.


	2. Swords and stars

Weapons were organized neatly on a table, ranging from crossbows to daggers, with Alec’s favorite, the bow, and Max’s, ironically, a mace. The youngest of the two did enjoy training with a spear, but all his teachers congratulated him on close-range combat. The training for today didn’t include their weapons of choice, rather sword play, considering how seraph blades were more commonly used than anything else. With every day that passed, the summer vacations were dragging themselves to an end. Yet, there were a lot of things to before Max had to go back to the Academy. Grabbing the closest sword to him, his fingers wrapping around the hilt, taking note of all the work that had gone in making it, he turned to face his brother who had taken hold of an identical weapon, passing his fingers across the blade, weighing the sword he was holding.

On a stool next to the weapons’ table, Rafael sat, watching his father and his uncle getting ready to spar. It had been Max’s suggestion that the boy attended the exercise, considering he was a shadowhunter in the making. Alec had agreed, for as long Rafael didn’t do anything but overlook the lesson. The boy had been eager to attend, seeing how such an event was a rare occurrence in his home. Max allowed himself to look at his nephew, a memory emerging at the surface of his mind, how not too long ago, he had been the one witnessing the training lessons, when he hadn’t been in Alicante. Countless times, he’d witnessed Jace and Alec practicing together, both of them able to bring out the other’s strengths and weaknesses, even before they became Parabatai. Considering their world was now at a calm point, as much as it could be, the need for Jace and Alec to continually be side by side was less a necessity than before. Nonetheless, Jace and Clary were to visit them in the coming week. Perhaps Isabelle and Simon would come as well, for them to be reunited together as the family they were, before Max had to go back to Idris.

Now wasn’t the time to think about them coming, for it could be a decent distraction, something that would keep Max’s focus from the training he was supposed to be doing. Blinking, he glanced at his brother who was already in position. The younger of the two shook his head, and put his sword before him, steadying his feet on the floor. It didn’t take long before the first move was done, Max swiftly advancing, his blade hitting Alec’s as he was blocked, then pushed. The swords colliding had made a grinding noise, the blades sliding against one another as the men took step backwards. Swirling around himself, Alec made an attempt to break Max’s defenses, unsuccessfully, as the younger knew the way his brother fought, allowing him to take a step to the side and point the tip of his blade at his brother’s side. A grin broke his concentration as the first duel was over. His brother had a matching one, at least, a sign that he was satisfied his brother was an adversary that could hold up with him.  The swordplay got more and more intricate throughout the session, moves and tricks being added to their duels, their wins distributed evenly all the while.

“You’ve improved since last time. I wouldn’t have thought I’d ever say that, but the Academy really did you good.”

The pride in his brother’s voice was evident, somehow laced with pleased surprise. To signify the end of the exercise, Alec nodded to Max, gesturing the weapons, inviting his brother to go to another station, depending of what he wanted to practice. As he passed a lazy hand against his forehead, wiping the sweat away, Max walked to the table, setting the sword down, recalling how he had been requested to practice his throwing accuracy. People who didn’t study in the Academy had a better aim than all the students reunited, as the word went by. His brother, catching up on his brother, stopped by his son, who was busy scribbling down notes about the exercise, in order to ruffle his hair gently, a caring gesture.

Max’s eyes surveyed the arsenal of weapons at his disposition, through the ones he could pick among for the throwing knives station. His focus stopped on throwing stars, their slender blades gleaming under the neon lights of the training room transforming them into a captivating weapon. The first time he’d seen anything about throwing stars was in one of the manga Clary had bought him. The accuracy of those, their deadliness was what attracted him to pick those. Not even hesitating before to take hold of them, Max saw his brother from the corner of his eye, who had picked his bow. The thoughts that formed themselves in Max’s mind at that sight weren’t the kind that should be shared. His stomach had dropped as he had a lot of work to do to be as good at throwing knives as his brother was with his bow and arrows.

Licking his lips, Max took the stance his instructors insisted he took whenever they had the throwing knife class at the Academy. Positioning his arm above his head, he fiddled with the star, turning it between his fingers, adjusting his hold before to let it go. It was all about the way your arm went down, the curve your hand followed, the strength you poured in the throwing gesture. Taking a deep breath, he let his arm swing downward, the blade leaving his hand, whistling through the air before to embed itself in the target. Max sighed as he noticed the star wasn’t where he aimed, in the outer circles instead of being in the bull’s eye.

By his side, Alec was nocking an arrow at his bow, readying himself to aim, oblivious to his brother, only focusing on his target. Three quick breaths were exhaled before the arrow flew directly to the middle of the circles. Perhaps that was part of the problem. Max focused too much on satisfying his brother with his skills that he forgot the goal of the exercise. Huffing to himself, he readied his second knife, this time holding his arm up in diagonal of his head. The blades dug inside his palm, under his clutching fingers. For good measure, the younger of the two brought his free arm in front of him, which helped to get steady. A few exhales left his mouth and lungs before he threw his arm down with more speed than before.

Max's eyes followed the throwing star as it moved towards the target. Just seconds before it hit the circle, a mild ripping sound resonated, accompanied with the feathers on one side of the arrow being cut through. As the blade got stuck in the target circle, Max drew in a sharp breath, considering he had managed to be closer to the middle, his star next to his brother’s arrow. Needless to say, his eyes widened, at the realization of how he'd ruined one of Alec's arrows. Max wasn’t ready to be met with praise for his precision. That only came when you truly deserved it, for your good actions, not for something as easy as having an aim as good as one of the best archers of his time. Biting down his lip, teeth digging through the soft flesh, he turned around and put the remaining stars down. His nerves were getting the best of him, and honestly keeping to train when all he could think of was that learning to fight wasn’t what he wanted to focus on at the time being. He had plenty of time to do that while at the Academy, and his days were counted before he went back. Sighing, he shook his head and faced his brother though avoided to look at him in the eye.

Ever since he was young, Max had grown in the shadow of his siblings, feeling he needed to make up to them. The fact that, although he had been distracted from the practice by thinking about Levi, he had shown that he was way better than he used to. Be it by precaution or by desire to distance himself from his oldest brother, he bowed his head as a dismissal gesture, his chest still rising and lowering itself under the intensity of the practice. It was a thing to get a bullseye, but to destroy the Institute's material was highly frowned upon. He took a moment before to speak in order to find the proper words to say, something that wouldn't disappoint Alec, considering the fact that Max was bringing the practice to an end earlier than what was usual for them.

“Thank you for your assistance. I… I need to go take a run. That’s another thing my instructors told me I needed to work on. I’ll meet with you back at your place.”

It was a lie wrapped in truth, considering Max did need to work on his running skills, one of the most basic things a Shadowhunter needed, but he also needed to escape the training room. The younger of the two was aware of how his brother’s eyes followed him as he left, but he needed not to worry too much about it. There was a lot going on in Max’s mind, as it ventured from his friends in the Academy, how it would be his last year there, how he was perhaps going to travel somewhere in his exchange year. Max had wanted to talk with Levi Starkweather since the summer had started, but every time he sent a fire message, he was found with no response.

Just seconds before to walk out the door, Max hastily drew a glamour rune on his skin, and then headed for his run. The heat of the end of July wrapped itself around him, the smog clinging to his clothes and skin, making everything worse, somehow. Picking up the pace, the young man passed in review what had happened in Idris. In every way, Levi was the one student to whom he had grown closer, among them all. If anyone, Max wanted to make Levi his Parabatai. They fought well together, meeting everyone who dared to take on them with their joined strength. The two of them were already good in their synchronism, even their teachers had noticed how good they were together. But then, it had all changed one night, as Levi had knocked on Max’s door. The Lightwood boy’s roommate was currently out when it had happened, and they had found themselves kissing, wrapped in each other’s arms. Max had been confused by it at first, because his feelings resumed themselves to friendship for Levi, and there was certainty that it wasn’t reciprocated. Or if it was, Levi's sentiments were deeper than simply friendship.

Most of his messages implied how he was sorry of rejecting him, that it wasn’t because he didn’t care about Levi, because the opposite was very much true. Max cared more than he would ever admit. With each time his feet connected with the concrete boardwalk, a new memory flooded his mind. There was Levi, but there was also Genevieve Foxshade. She was one of the sweetest person he knew, and was also Levi’s best friend. When she’d learned about Levi and Max’s rejection, she’d turned her back on him, until he’d explained the situation he found himself in. No one had ever managed to bring true romantic feelings out of him, but it didn’t change how he thought of others. As this had been a confession, Genevieve had warmed up to Max, but not enough to stop taking Levi’s side in all that story.

And now, to explain all this to his brother stressed Max out. Disappointment wasn’t something he wished people would feel about him, and he truly did what he could to avoid such a thing. Alec had been part of a small revolution amidst a bigger one, and to have another Lightwood sibling who was notorious was absolutely out of question in Max’s mind. Squeezing his eyes shut as he kept running, for a second, he opened them again, ignoring the feeling that had crept behind his chest, between his heart and lungs. Truly, Max wished things could be simple for once and for all, that taking Levi as his Parabatai would sort things out. It would make it easy to follow the law and maybe after a while, the other boy would see Max in the good kind of light, and someone else taking the role of his life partner.


	3. Supportive Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The New York Institute holds their monthly dinner with the addition of Max this time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel very grateful that a bunch of you are supporting this idea of mine. I had no idea where it was going at first, but now I have a better idea. A humongous thank you to wakeupstiles for the help with the pregnancy part.

The wind tousled his hair, passing through the fine strands of it as a knife through butter, leaving the young man’s hair in even more a mess than it had previously been. Max was staring at the stars, poking through the still darkening skies, their appearance bleak but growing stronger with every passing second. The quietude of the Institute’s backyard was better than the turmoil happening inside. He had needed to escape his family and guests because he felt too much attention had been directed his way. For too many of them, he had no idea what to reply aside of a statement that paled next to what was actually happening in his mind. Stronger than before, he’d wanted Levi Starkweather by his side, as the other’s presence soothed every ache Max experienced or echoed out loud the very thoughts that Max had. Simply put, the youngest Lightwood thought that Levi was his soulmate, the one that changed everything, but too many things were at stake. Firstly, he wasn’t sure the way he felt was reciprocated, or if it could work. Secondly, no matter how many things his older brother had changed, there was still a taboo surrounding same sex Shadowhunters relationships. Finally, approval was what he wanted, and to disappoint his parents by showing he too was different was the last thing on his mind.

The evening had started perfectly fine nonetheless. Max had been able to avoid bringing attention on him until the ever so perceptive Clary pinpointed how quiet the youngest Lightwood actually was. The arrival of the Lightwoods, Magnus and Simon to the institute had gone quickly, Clary being the perfect host she always was, accompanied by Jace, who was close behind her, watching closely, as if he expected to be any help sooner or later. It wasn’t too hard to guess why, seeing how Clary’s belly was swollen from her pregnancy with twins, enough so she probably wasn’t able to see her feet while standing. Isabelle had already been there, preparing the meal. Chances were it was linked to Izzy’s refusal to let her friend stand for too long. It was still hard to believe how good she had become at cooking, but Max would take her food any time he could. Before long, they were all sat around the table in the dining room, a feast spread across the surface, more food than any of them could manage to eat in one sitting.

Isabelle, with a curious glint in her eyes, had leaned over the table, palms pressed against the tablecloth, to be closer to Clary, before to ask expectantly, “So, Clary, how is it?” all while watching the redhead’s every gesture, from the spoon she had shoved in her mouth, and how frantically she was chewing. The sight was somewhat adorable, as someone that small could muster enough energy to make everything happen. Max thought that, by the way Izzy looked at Jace’s wife, it was as if she was able to move mountains by the force of her will, something that wasn’t too far from the truth as the youngest knew it.

Only a moment passed before Clary answered, having swallowed her bite. The young woman was completely out of track with what Isabelle had inquired to her, it seemed. “Good, Izzy, those cooking classes really helped.” Her reply was met with a nose being wrinkled and a frown, Isabelle’s, which were also accompanied by a slight roll of her eyes. The dark haired woman sighed before to clarify what she had intended to ask Clary. “I was talking about being pregnant. With twins.” After she had shared that bit more of information, Isabelle leaned back against the seat of her chair, curiosity shining brighter in her eyes than before. Clary had a glow to her that was more than ordinary, Max had thought, wondering if Isabelle found the same about the redhead. It was increased even more when Clary realized her mistake by shooting a smile wide to her ears at Isabelle. “Oh, it’s great, actually.” She said excitedly, and began to tell friend all about it. From the morning sickness, to the cravings, to feeling the baby kick, she loved all of it and wouldn’t trade it for the world.

A few seconds passed before Jace exclaimed his disagreement over what his wife had said. “It’s awful!” True to his usual drama-like self, the blond haired man accompanied his statement by pulling his hair, fingers intertwined between the loose strands of it. His face harbored a look of despair, something that wildly clashed with the joy Clary had spread to the table, a joy so vivid everyone had a smile plastered to their visages, though they were now dropping slightly as the people around the table widened their eyes at Jace. Clary turned to him and glared, tightening her grip around the fork in her palm. “What do you mean by that?” The red head asked darkly, her knuckles becoming white from the force she was exerting on the innocent fork in her grip.

Isabelle and Simon darted their eyes between the couple, holding their breaths in anticipation. Magnus failed at hiding a smirk and chuckle behind his hand, Alec rolled his eyes at the dramatics, and Max remained silent, thinking that to interfere wouldn’t be a good move. Sometimes he allowed himself to say a witty remark, but it happened more when everyone was in good spirits, which wasn’t the case as now. It had been, but his adoptive brother had ruined it. That thought made Max sigh out of amusement, thinking of chuckling, but he allowed himself to keep the smile he had on his lips already, not caring of hiding it, as the main focus in the room wasn’t on him.

Finally, Jace grimaced and waved his hands through the air, “Jace get me this, Jace get me that, Jace I need pickles and ice cream.” Like that, the tension had been broken, everyone letting out a breath they had apparently been holding.

“That’s disgusting.” Alec muttered.

“Wait, together?” Magnus added with arched brows.

Jace slapped his hands on the table and nodded emphatically. “Yes!”

“I’m pregnant, Jace!” Clary exclaimed, placing both hands on her belly. “You try it sometimes and then complain about the cravings you get. Plus, pickles and ice cream isn’t that bad.” She shrugged.

Simon, with a smirk growing on his lips, asked “What kind of ice cream?”

“Mint chocolate chip.” The red head answered, a playful smile adorning her lips. She had jumped right into her Parabatai’s game and had come up with the most disgusting choice she could’ve made. It was worth it to see Jace being desperate over her case, and everyone being grossed by the wonders of pregnancy. Clary consoled herself by being sure she wasn’t craving anything that wasn’t food, a sign that everything was going for the best.

“That’s disgusting.” Alec repeated, feeling sick just thinking about the combination.

Magnus leaned into his boyfriend and whispered in his ear, “I’m so glad we’ll never get pregnant.”

It seemed as if becoming pregnant gave you better senses as Clary turned her head to the warlock, looking around Jace, her gaze sharp and her lips pursed. “What was that?” She asked in a too-sweet voice. Magnus’ eyes grew wide and he shrugged, shoveling another spoonful of food into his mouth. “Oh, nothing, nothing. The food is great, Isabelle.” He said quickly changing the subject, silently praying that he wouldn’t fall under the wrath of the pregnant Shadowhunter. Clary’s temper was scary in general, but now that she was pregnant it seemed to multiply; that was not something Magnus wanted thrust upon him.

“It is.” Clary agreed brightly, her eyes shining. “But do you know what I could go for right now?” She questioned, turning to her husband with a hopeful face and cheeky smile.

The man’s face fell, eyes filling with dread. “Clary, no,” He began to plead.

Clary ignored him, of course, and said dreamily, “Olives and-”

“Please, no,” He interrupted, his voice a low groan.

“Cereal.” She finished. Simon cringed on the other side of the table, while Alec turned his nose up and snorted in amusement. The scene unfolding at the table was probably the most entertaining thing the archer had seen in a while, and he was forced to watch the Bad Girl’s Club with Magnus nightly. A pregnant Clary and helpless Jace was far better than women throwing each other into a pool and pouring alcohol on each other’s heads.

“By the Angel.” Max mumbled with a sour face, arms crossed and shaking his head, trying to not imagine what that would taste like, lest he puke up his lunch. As truly good as Isabelle’s cooking had become, he was sure it would taste vile the other way around.

The red head stared at her husband, bright green eyes beginning to water. She poked out her upper lip, let a tear slide down her face. Jace sighed, ran his hands through his hair, then pushed his chair back from the table and stood. He bent down and kissed his wife on the cheek, mumbling, “I will be right back.”

Clary smiled brightly at that, waving at his back as he left. “Thank you!” She exclaimed, clasping her hands together in anticipation for her next meal course.

The food was soon laid out in front of Clary, a bowl filled with Honey-Nut Cheerios and black sliced olives. A strange combination of food with holes in them were mixed, with milk poured all over it. Max turned his stare away from the redhead as she plunged a spoon in the bowl and started munching on the concoction, letting small moans of pleasure come out as she ate. Jace came back to sit as his place, looking more discouraged than before.

The conversation went on afterwards, everyone not wanting to seem phased by what Clary was eating. It reached more formal matters, a common occurrence at a dinner like the one they had organized, as the young heads of the New York institute asked for advice about dealing with demons emerging on the territory, a constant threat that couldn’t be avoided. With Clary in the condition she was now, very advanced in her pregnancy, they needed support and to know that everyone would be there to help fighting. Max pursed his lips, and leaned back against his chair, joining his hands together before to fiddle with his fingers. It was no use telling he could help them when he was going back to the Academy before his intervention could count for anything. The first to notice Max’ silence was Clary, who tilted her head to the side before to direct him a question.

“Maybe you could ask to the new Shadowhunters graduating if they would be interested in taking their year in a foreign institute with us?”

That brought Max back with his family, though his desire to participate was fleeting. It was better to train for what was coming when he would be back in Idris than spending time speculating about something he couldn’t know before seeing people in face. “I can ask, but I can’t promise anything. Is it okay if I leave you guys? I feel tired, and I need to be able to wake early tomorrow if I want to train and stuff before it gets too hot.”

Getting acknowledged by a couple of nods signifying him that he could leave the table, Max didn’t waste an instant and rose from his chair before to go to the backyard. He ignored the stares he got from his siblings as they were full of worry for him, seeing how it was very much him to leave everyone, excusing himself. He was more of the kind of person to usually involve himself to the brim of possibility. Realization dawned on Isabelle that maybe her little brother had grown way more than she’d expected while he was away from them. She followed that idea by shrugging to Alec, telling him wordlessly not to worry.

Now surrounded in quietness and the fresh air that somehow wrapped the institute, shutting it from the pollution that was common in New York City, he sat on the grass, ignoring the evening dew that had gone through the fabric of his pants. After a few deep breaths, he looked upward, gazing at the stars that looked the same as they did back in the Shadowhunter country. Max being alone was disrupted by a sound he took for someone joining him, before to recognize the peculiar crackling of the air that preceded the arrival of a fire message. His guess turned right as a letter appeared to his side, which he reached for before it would be ruined by the watery grass.

Very carefully, he opened the envelope before to start reading of the content of the letter. At last, he had word from Levi, who had stopped avoiding responding to him, and was actually apologizing for his attitude that had been going on since the beginning of the summer. The scribbled words felt warm to Max’ heart, making him realize how much he had missed Levi. In reflection, the young man brought his free hand to his lips, wondering if the way he felt was more of an infatuation and something that could lead to an actual relationship, or if it would be stopped at a simple friendship, yet one as intense as promised the Parabatai vows.

It was too early in the blooming reconciliation for Max to write back, and too late for him to formulate something that made the slightest of sense. Folding the paper again, he slid it inside the envelope and then put it inside his hoodie’s pocket, the only place where he knew the message would be in safety from anyone discovering it. There was nothing wrong with exchanging with fellow Shadowhunters, but there was something way too personal in the letter to make Max want to share anything about it. Nonetheless, he felt like he was no longer all that much alone, that there were people who offered him tangible support when he didn’t know he needed it.

Standing up, he walked back inside the institute, glancing to his siblings cleaning the dishes, while Clary was sitting at the table, chatting with them. He smiled inwardly, sensing that maybe in a close future, he could find a place fitting in the family, somewhere that didn’t make him feel awkward. He would need to work hard for it to happen, as there was always the impossible pressure coming from his parents, his father constantly watching over what he did, acting with the title he had been granted a while ago, as he had been elected to be the Inquisitor. Everything Max did, he closely watched himself in order to not be accused of law breaking. His feelings for Levi were no exception.

Sighing, he climbed the stairs silently, going for his bedroom, satisfied that he had managed to go unnoticed. His satisfaction was short-lived as he was soon actually joined by someone, that person looking less than pleased to be standing into Max’ doorframe.

“What’s up?” The youngest asked, his eyebrows quirked, a question mark almost hanging above his head.


	4. Brighter than witchlight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Max realizes that maybe, appearances weren't right, and he needed to be sure that the person crashing his bed would be there for him for more than only a night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter comes a long time after the previous one but I was so swamped with life and everything got hectic but anyway. I hope you enjoy the lil beans this chapter!

His words still rung through the air when he was joined by the young man, him sitting on the edge of Max’s bed. It was strange to see Levi after all this time being ignored. The fair haired young man decided to ignore the nagging voice at the back of his mind that was telling him that seeing his best friend now instead of later or earlier wasn’t without meaning. Something else that spoke louder than words was how Levi was shivering and drenched which gave away the fact that he had used a portal to come, and he had brought the scent of rain with him. Levi’s reply didn’t take long to come, faster than the fire message he had sent Max.

“I got… Well um… Your siblings messaged me earlier, and they told me you had been withdrawing from them. I also felt it here…”

His last words were accompanied of his hand being lifted to his heart, fingers merely hovering over the material of his coat. Max scooted closer to his friend, a worried look hanging in his eyes. The youngest Lightwood wanted to rest a hand on Levi’s shoulder, though truth being told, he wasn’t ready for that kind of contact yet. He was also inhabited by the thought that Levi wouldn’t want him to do so, since they had to keep their relationship within limits that were agreed upon for Shadowhunters.

“I need to say, it depends which of them told you that, but I did kind of feel like I couldn’t tell them everything. Everything that happened at the Academy, and what your visit means. I still don’t know if I want to be your Parabatai, or something else.”

Levi sighed and brought his hands together to unbutton his coat. Meanwhile, Max put his hands in his lap and bit at his bottom lip, stress and fear of disappointment gaining up on him. Time for him and Levi to become bonded together through the most prized bond was fleeting and their chances of it working were thin. Once the darker haired young man discarded his coat on the side of the bed that was still unoccupied, and this time, it was him who went closer to Max. His voice was low when he spoke, although it caught in his throat a few times.

“Max… If you want us to be together, no matter the way it is, I don’t mind it. I just want you to be certain about it.”

Those words felt welcome, causing a weight to be removed from Max’s shoulders even if he still felt like the situation was far from being solved. Slowly, he intertwined his fingers together, looking down at them, avoiding to look up at the other young man. Tension was slowly gaining on him, thin tendrils crawling against his skin, and electricity seemed to crack in the room. Before he could even realize what he was doing, Max had stood up and had gone to shut the door of his bedroom. It took only seconds before he sat back on the mattress and pulled Levi against him, crashing his lips against the other man’s.

The impact was met with an ‘hmpf’ and then a hum of satisfaction as Levi participated in the kiss. The embrace lasted a few more seconds before Max pulled away, blinking a few times, his eyelashes caressing the highest part of his cheekbones every time he closed his eyes. Levi brought one of his hands upward, resting his palm against Max’s cheek, and brushed his thumb against the soft skin. The gesture was filled with kindness and gentleness. Both young men looked at one another and suddenly it seemed like everything clicked together.

There had been times during the lessons where Levi and Max came as a pair and were inseparable. The duo had come to be able to complete the other one’s thoughts, regardless of the situation. A lot of the people in their class had the belief that the two of them would become Parabatai before their graduation. What happened behind closed doors was a different story. This time, they were close, their mouths still inches apart, the two of them being able to taste one another’s breaths on their tongues. Max’s breathing hitched up as he assessed the moment, taking a mental picture of what had just happened. 

“I think this way would be the best. I know how Parabatai can be, and how they are often more valuable in combat, but I have come to realize that there would be a part missing. I wouldn’t get to see you as often as I wish.”

A deep sigh punctuated his sentence, as uncertainty gained on him. Uncertainty that he was making the right choice with them being in a relationship of that kind. It would also mean he’d need to open up to his brother about it, to have advice about the way to make it all work. As if Levi had picked the clues on what was going on inside Max’s head, which was probably what had happened, he leaned in and gently pressed his lips against the Lightwood boy’s and slid his hand to the back of Max’s neck, deepening the kiss and sliding his tongue inside the other’s mouth. As he ended the kiss, Levi nipped a few small kisses against Max’s lips and hummed silently in contentment.   
“Please tell me you won’t mind sharing your bed for the night, I don’t feel comfortable leaving your room now, and it… um… it would be really awkward.”  
Levi laughed a little, a faint blush appearing on his cheeks. This was closer to the night during which they had shared their first kiss, and Max knew the other student was right. In the morning, Levi would go down the stairs with him, which would be something they’d have to deal with then, but now, as everyone was likely to be asleep, Max nodded, agreeing to have Levi share his bedding, no matter the size not being the greatest for two people, and he proceeded to go hang his friend’s coat, lacking good knowledge of the right way he should call Levi.

“Since you don’t seem like you need a shower anymore, there are some clothes in the drawers that should fit you, especially since our build is similar.”

As he finished his sentence, Max stifled a yawn and removed his shirt in order to slide on a more comfortable top that would be a makeshift pajama for the night.


End file.
